CHAPTER 4

Daniel struggled to read the man across the table from him. His feet were up on the edge of the table and he leaned precariously on the two back legs of his chair. Large, muscular hands were clasped behind his head. His lips toyed with a half-chewed toothpick and his eyes were narrowed to a slit.

            “So, let me see if I get this right, kid,” Jack said. “According to you, the world as I knew it: the cars, the cities, the countries, and so on, all of it–it’s gone now.”

            Daniel nodded.

            “And when did all this happen, this big war you talked about?”

            “Over eighteen decades ago.”

            “And what happened in the interim? A bunch of hippies running around in the woods for two hundred years?”

            Daniel wore a blank stare and shook his head slowly.

            “Hippies,” Jack repeated. “Flowers in their hair, like to hug trees, wouldn’t think of harming a spider? Those were the folks that were left?”

            “Well, the years did bring much joy, but there was also a huge amount of work.”

            “Like?”

            “Cleaning everything up, for one thing. And then salvaging what could be used from the Old World, then rebuilding.”

            “Who built this place?” Jack said, gazing around the room. Daniel couldn’t discern if he was impressed or disgusted.

            “The foundation originally belonged to an old ski resort. Skiing was a sport very popular at the time where–“

            “Yeah kid, I know what skiing is.”

            “Oh. Well. The building was unusable but the concrete foundation was sound. This new structure was built in its spot roughly a century ago, shortly before the first resurrections began.”

            “You’re telling me this building is a hundred years old?”

            “Yes.”

            “Not possible. I saw the construction in that room I’m staying in. Those are fresh planks.”

            “Yes, you’re right. We made some adaptions for the room to make you more comfortable.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “Well, we know a bit about your background. You grew up near a sawmill and your father worked there. He’d often build custom furniture for your house in Montana.”

            Daniel was confused as Jack’s demeanor suddenly changed. In the place of his confident swagger was something new and aggressive. His body had stiffened and his jaw was clenched.

            “Sorry,” he said. “Did I say something wrong?”

            Jack shook his head. “No, you got the gist of it.”

            “Oh, ok. Well, we just wanted to furnish the room in a way that’d be comfortable for you, you know, to help you get used to your new life here.”

            “So what is this then, really?” Jack said, leaning forward with his hands laced together on the table.

            “I’m sorry, I don’t understand–“

            “A psych experiment, maybe? You work for the army?”

            “The army? No, I just told you that the army of the Old World are completely–“

            “Yeah, I heard the World War Three story the first time, thanks. So, you running tests on me to see if I’m still fit for combat?”

            Daniel shook his head slowly, understanding almost nothing of what Jack was saying.

            “How old are you?” Jack asked suddenly.

            “I’ll be forty-six next week.”

            Jack stared blankly back. With no words to speak, he began rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. Then, with his fingers moving in wide circles, he pushed the blood from his temples to the back of his head and down his neck. “Hey kid, you got any cigarettes here?”

            “I’m sorry?”

            “Cigarttes. Smokes.” Jack tapped his lips with two fingers. Daniel shrugged.

            “Great. Just great.”

            “What are cigarettes?” Daniel asked.

            “Forget it, kid. I’m pretty tired of this game. Need some fresh air.” Jack shoved the chair back under the dining room table and headed for the exit.

***

            Naomi paced the Center’s small lobby space. Things hadn’t turned out anything like she’d imagined. She’d been standing in this very place when it had happened. A scraping sound at one of the windows, then a shriek, followed moments later by agonized moans. In all her years of experience as a Welcomer, this was the first she’d ever heard of someone actually injuring themselves on the same day of their resurrection. Unbelievable.

            Fortunately, it wasn’t serious. A slight sprain in her right ankle and a mild concussion, but nothing a few days’ rest couldn’t remedy. There were questions, of course. What had Adrina been thinking? Had something scared her? Naomi shuddered to think that they might’ve made some mistake in their preparations. After all those months of careful research and construction, had they missed something?

            The questions would simply have to wait. Naomi sighed and took a seat in the chair behind the front desk. The stretched leather was new and hard and provided no comfort for her tired body.

            Naomi glanced at her watch. It was already seven o’clock, meaning that Adrina hadn’t had a thing to eat since her resurrection six hours before. It troubled Naomi. She rose from the chair and walked the span of the room to the far hallway that led to the residence rooms. These were the rooms that the newly welcomed would live in the first few weeks while they were initiated into their new lives and regained their strength.

            She tapped lightly on the door to Adrina’s room. Silence. Naomi decided to take a peek. She slowly eased the door open, letting a white band of light seep in. The room had been decorated according to the early 21st century American residential style that Adrina would’ve been used to. The furnishings had been delivered by a salvage depot a few towns over just days ago. It reminded Naomi of her days in her and Charlie’s first duplex in California. It was a warm feeling attached to fond memories. Naomi wondered if Adrina felt the same.

            Adrina slept peacefully on the bed at the far wall of the room. Her ankle had been wrapped in elastic bandages and propped atop a stack of pillows. One of her arms hung over the side of the bed.

            Naomi slipped into the room and shut the door behind her. She gingerly pulled the chair from behind the room’s wooden desk and sat herself down.

            Adrina stirred gently on the bed and opened her eyes. Seeing Naomi, she panicked, scrambling towards the edge and against the headboard. Her foot swung from the pillows and bumped hard against the wall and she let out a shriek. As she writhed on the bed, she noticed the bandages wrapped around her head and began to whimper.

            Naomi stood suddenly, unsure whether to run or help. She didn’t want to cause the girl more pain, but she was worried that her absence might bring on another rash escape attempt.

            “Who are you?” Adrina suddenly yelled, still holding her foot in both hands. “And where am I? What is this place? What am I doing here?”

            Naomi held up her hands, trying to calm the girl and wondering what question to answer first and how. Before she could compile her thoughts, she was jolted by Adrina’s screams: “Well don’t just stand there! You deaf or something? I want answers!”

            Naomi realized just how long it had been since she’d dealt with human fear and anger. Suddenly it wasn’t a grown woman yelling at her, but a small and injured animal. Thoughtlessly striking out, fighting for its survival, fearing the unknown.

            “I know you must be scared, Adrina, but you don’t have to be,” Naomi said softly, her voice just above a whisper.

            “You didn’t answer my questions,” Adrina said.

            “I will, in time. But first I need you to relax.”

            “Ugh! You’re all the same. Always making me feel like it’s somehow my fault, treating me like I’m stupid or dangerous or something. I just want answers!”

            “Ok, ok. I can understand that. But I’m sure you’re hungry, right? What about something to eat first?”

            “So you can slip meds into my applesauce? Yeah, right, you can forget that. I’m not eating or drinking anything until you tell me what I want to know.” Adrina’s arms were crossed and her back was to the wall. If she was in pain, she wasn’t showing it.

            Naomi sat back down in the chair and sighed. Dormant feelings deep in her bones began to awaken, old patterns of speech and thought that hadn’t been used in nearly two centuries. Imperfection had been such an ugly thing.

            “Ok,” she finally said. “Let’s get your questions answered.”

            “About time,” Adrina huffed.

            “First, my name. I’m Naomi. I’m not your enemy. I’m here to help you. This isn’t a hospital. It’s a cabin on top of a mountain, and we’re very, very far from where you used to call home.”

            “Yeah, I figured this ain’t Detroit.”

            “No, it isn’t. We’re in what you would’ve known as the Canadian Rockies, about two thousand miles from where you used to live.”

            “And how did I get all the way out here? What happened to me?”

            “You overdosed on painkillers.”

            “So this is a rehab center. You think I’m an addict?”

            “No, I don’t think that, and no, this isn’t a rehabilitation clinic.”

            “So what is this place then?”

            “What I’m about to tell you isn’t go to be easy to believe, Adrina. But I want you to listen carefully, because it’s the truth, and you need to understand it.”

            “Ok...”

            “When you suffered you last migraine, you took some pills. Do you remember that?”

            “You ever had a migraine? It ain’t somethin’ you forget.”

            “Right. Well, the meds you took were stronger than you realized. You overdosed. The chemicals in the medicine were so strong that they shut down your kidneys and left you unconscious.”

            The ire began to fade from Adrina’s face as her mind reached back for the memories. Naomi studied her expression and noted the change.

            “Does any of this sound familiar? How much do you remember?” Naomi asked gently.     “I remember falling. Never gonna forget that. The room was spinning like I was on a roller coaster. Head felt like it was going to explode into a million pieces. Worst pain I ever remember, and then... I fell down. I was on the ground.”

            “Yes, that’s right. You fell,” Naomi paused, trying to let Adrina fill in the pieces.

            “What’re you looking at me like that for?” Adrina suddenly snapped. “What are you not telling me?”

            “Adrina, the overdose you took. It was fatal. You died in your sleep. When the ambulance finally made it to your house hours later there was nothing they could do.”

            “Nothing they could do? So then how am I here sitting in this room talking to you if there was nothing they could do.”

            “Well, that’s where I come in. This morning, at ten forty-five, you came back to life.”

            “Came back to life?” Adrina asked dubiously. “You mean, like from the dead?”

            “That’s right. From the dead,” Naomi said, faintly expecting at any moment for Adrina to burst into tears and the two of them to embrace in an emotional moment. It had happened with the righteous.

            Instead, Adrina threw her head back and laughed. It went on for almost a minute. Naomi had no idea how to react.

            “That’s good, that’s real good! Back from the dead, lil’ Adrina. Like Frankenstein or some craziness. Ha ha, good stuff.”

            “I don’t mean a medical resurrection,” Naomi interrupted, clearing her throat. “I’m talking about a Divine miracle. You were resurrected by the power of God.”

            Adrina face went blank as she stared back at Naomi. Her lips pursed, as if about to say something, and then she chuckled.

            “Uh, so what you’re telling me is that this is heaven? And what are you, an angel?” Adrina laughed.

            “No, I’m not an angel. I’m a human. I was born in Michigan, actually, not too far from you. This isn’t heaven. Canadian Rockies, remember?”

            “So wait, what you’re trying to tell me is that I’ve died, and for some reason God has decided to resurrect me? That’s your story?”

            “It’s the truth.”

            “Right, and um, why did He decide to bring me back in the mountains?”

            “You’ve been assigned to our care. It’s not just the two of us here. My family is here, too, and there are other guests.”

            “By guests you mean...”

            “Other resurrected people.”

            “What about my family? Is my Mom here?”

            “Not yet, but she will be. It’d be best if you could be the one to welcome her.”

            “Welcome her? What’s that mean?”

            “Your mom passed away many years ago, long after you died. But eventually she’ll come back too, and it’d be best if you were there to welcome her back.”

            “Wait, I don’t understand any of this at all. First of all, it’s crazy, and I don’t know if someone is just messin’ with me or whatever, but even if I was willing to listen to your little story, tell me, why is everyone dead?”

            “Adrina, your last memories, all those things that happened in Detroit, including your death, how long ago do you think it was?”

            “It doesn’t feel long at all. It happened last night.”

            “Well, it wasn’t last night. It wasn’t even last week or last month. Adrina. You were dead for almost two hundred years.”

            Adrina attempted a giggle, but the humor had apparently run its course. She looked hard at Naomi’s serious stare and turned away.

            “I know this all seems very strange and unbelievable, Adrina, so just give it time. Eventually you’ll get to meet a lot of other people, and their stories will help to verify some of the things I’ve told you just now.”

            Adrina closed her eyes and shook her head slowly. A stray tear made its way from the corner of her eye and down her cheek, leaving a gleaming trail in the faint light of the room. “I’m sorry, this isn’t really funny anymore. My head and my foot hurt. I just wanna rest.”

            “That’s ok. Take your time. You’ll find here that no one’s in a rush. But I think some food will help you feel a lot better. What do you say?”

            “Yeah, ok. I could eat.”

***

            Harold swirled the glass with his left hand, watching the cabernet cling to the edges and slide back down the glass. He slid his chair back from the table of half-emptied dishes and crossed his legs. The man who sat across from him had introduced himself as Charlie Lewis. They’d eaten from an impressive spread, and when the last of the plates had been cleaned off, his host had pulled a bottle of wine from the shelf. Harold hadn’t recognized the vineyard printed on the label.

           “How’s the wine?” Charlie asked. Harold observed his manner studiously. There was an eagerness he found puzzling, as if he was nervous to please. He wanted something, but what? Harold’s mind added the question to a growing list.

            “Fine,” he replied briskly, setting the glass down. “Have you ever travelled to France?”

            Charlie shook his head.

            “You must visit, if you have the chance. I particularly recommend Vosne-Romanée, in Burgundy. If you like wine, you can do no better than their pinot noir. But this isn’t bad. Very palatable.”

            Charlie smiled back.

            “So you’re American.” Harold said.

            “I was born in America, yes. My parents were from Florida, which is where I grew up. Have you ever been?”

            Florida. Harold nearly shuddered. To him, the word conjured up images of leathery-skinned woman far beyond their prime sprawled out on beaches sipping colorful drinks. “Yes. As a matter of fact I was invited to give a series of lectures in American universities. The University of Florida was one of them.”

            “Ah, I see. What kind of lectures?” Charlie asked.

            “Oh, science. I was invited to speak on some of the rather, well, groundbreaking work I was performing in evolutionary biology. May I ask where you attended school, Mr. Lewis?”

            “Hampton High.”

            “And then? After high school?”

            “No ‘and then’. That was it. I never attended college.”

            Harold’s mouth fell open slightly. Perhaps he’d overestimated his host. Still, it would be best to allow him his dignity. After all, the man had just treated him to an extravagant meal, which couldn’t have been cheap, even if the wine perhaps was.

            “Ah, I see,” Harold said, managing to sound civil. “Well, in simple terms, my research dealt with explaining the diversity on Earth at a biological level. I assume you’ve heard of Charles Darwin?”

            Charlie nodded, still smiling.

            “Yes, well, scientists like myself strive to build on the remarkable foundation he established in the nineteenth century.”

            “Ah, I see,” Charlie said.

            Harold smiled back, pleased with his simplification of an intricate subject into quotidian terms. Their conversation hit a momentary lull as a flock of large birds passed by the picture window on the far wall. The movements of their wings and bodies threw wild shapes and shadows into the small closed space. Harold observed them quietly, without reacting.

            “Beautiful, aren’t they?” Charlie asked.

            Harold shrugged. “I suppose. Though it’s a wonder they can fly at all. Their bodies are burdened by all manner of useless internal organs. I suppose, though, with another few millennia evolution will find a way to fix it. But then they probably won’t be birds anymore.” Harold glanced at his host, hoping his enlightened conversation had sparked something. Instead, Charlie appeared to be squirming.

            “You know,” Charlie said, “I was expecting you to ask a lot more questions since you woke up in that room this afternoon.”

            “And what kind of inquires were you hoping to hear, exactly?”

            “Well I kind of assumed you might want to know what this place was, why you’re here, who I am. Does none of that interest you?”

            Harold took a deep breath and grinned widely. His patience was paying dividends. The man was beginning to crack. It was just a hairline fracture now, of course, but eventually the cracks would spread and Harold would be the victor.

            “Well isn’t it obvious already?” Harold cooed.

            “What do you mean?”

            Harold shrugged and flashed a Cheshire grin, “I march to my own drum. It was an American poet that wrote that. I means I’ll find the answers in my own way.”

            Harold watched with pleasure as Charlie struggled to smile back, but the expression was flimsy plastic. Harold thought he might reach out and crack it in his fingers like a cheap fast food utensil. “Thank you for the meal, Mr. Lewis,” he said, rising slowly from his chair. “And now, perhaps, you can show me to my room. I would like to retire for the day.”

***

            “So, how was everyone’s first day?” Charlie asked as he spooned the roasted eggplant from the platter to his plate. He had been the second to the last to make it home that night. Naomi was still at the center. Daniel and Sophie lounged on separate recliners in the den. A jazz vinyl spun on the phonograph.

            “I don’t even know where to start...” Sophie said. “That woman is almost impossible to talk to.”

            Charlie chuckled. “What about you, Daniel?” It took a few seconds for him to respond. He fiddled with a wooden puzzle box listlessly as he looked for the words.

            “I’m not sure what to make of Jack. One moment he’s indignant and stubborn and the next he seems relaxed and at peace. He’s an enigma. I don’t have a clue what’s going through his head,” Daniel said.

            Charlie nodded as he poured himself a glass of milk. It was fresh and frothy, having been delivered that morning by one of the Carter boys.

            “What about you, Dad? What’s Harold like?” Sophie asked.

            “Harold’s a smart guy. He was very accomplished in his old life. Staunch evolutionist, as a matter of fact.”

            “What’s an ‘evolutionist’?” Daniel asked. Charlie rose from the table and brought his plate and glass into the den. He sat on the floor between the two recliners and continued to eat.

            “Evolutionists believed that complex life came about by chance. They wanted to explain life without an intelligent Creator. The idea was that it happened gradually, by a series of random coincidences, over a period of billions of years, and eventually the first cells evolved into all forms of plants and animals in existence.”

            “You can’t be serious,” Daniel said. His eyes were wide as he momentarily glanced away from the puzzle.

            “Oh, I’m very serious. They taught it in schools. Ask your sister.”

            “It’s true,” Sophie said.

            “But who could believe such a thing? Even a cursory knowledge of biology would reveal immense complexity... it’s far beyond anything that could possibly come about by chance!”

            “Nevertheless, it’s what all the textbooks in the Old World taught. If you believed in anything else, you were labeled a religionist, a sort of primitive mind. There was a lot of pressure in those days.”

            “Simply amazing,” Daniel said.

            “In any case, I don’t want to worry too much about him, but I sense that Mr. Dawson is going to take some time to come around.”

            “You mean he still believes in that evolution stuff after his miraculous resurrection?” Sophie said, chuckling with disbelief.

            “We haven’t rounded that bend yet. The conversation today was pretty sparse. I get the feeling he doesn’t have too high an opinion of me.”

            “Tell me about it. It’s the same with Liping,” said Sophie. “She’s been cheated and lied to so many times in the past that she’s unwilling to trust anyone. She refuses to believe we’re related.”

            “It’ll take time with all of them, I’m sure. Everything’s different than how they remember,” Charlie advised.

            The conversation was interrupted by the creak and whine of the kitchen door. It was Naomi. She threw her purse onto the kitchen counter and stumbled into the den. “I had no idea this was going to be so difficult,” she said as she collapsed into an empty sofa next to the others.

            “Dinner?” Charlie asked.

            “No, thanks. Not hungry. I just spent nearly four hours trying to convince Adrina she isn’t in some sort of institution.”

            “Institution?” Daniel asked, looking into the others’ eyes for an explanation. Naomi satisfied his curiosity.

            “Institutions were Old World centers where they treated the mentally unwell. Some were addicted to chemical substances, others had mental illnesses that made them a threat to themselves and others. They typically weren’t nice places.”

            “I guess that’s what I really don’t understand about these people,” Daniel said, his face suddenly flushed.

            “The Old World just sounds so bad. If it wasn’t being torn apart by war or crime it was suffering from addictions and mental problems and on and on and on. I just don’t see how people who’d lived in that world can wake up in this one and not be completely thrilled to be here. I mean, I’d be ecstatic. Why would anyone fight this?”

            No one spoke. A glass case on the back wall chimed a soft melody. It was nine o’clock. A light breeze passed through the room, ruffling the lace curtains and tousling everyone’s hair.

            “All good questions,” Charlie finally said. “And I think it’s part of our job to find the answers. Every guest’s Old World experiences are different, so the reasons behind their thought patterns will be different too. Does anyone remember the last thing our traveling elder mentioned to us before he left last month?”

            “Love never fails,” Daniel whispered.

            “Right. In the end, it won’t matter how smart we are, or how much experience we have, or how cleverly we’ve designed their residences. In the end, it’s all about love.”

            “But how do you show love to a man whose last memory was killing and being killed?” Daniel said.

            “Or a woman who won’t accept your love?” Sophie said.

            “Pray about it. And then do your best. That’s all Jehovah ever asks.”

            Naomi draped her arm around her husband’s shoulder. Charlie could see she was exhausted. It had been a long day for everyone and another would start in just a few hours. He rose from his spot on the rug and trudged up the stairs, his wife in tow.

            “Thanks for the pep talk,” Naomi said after she’d showered and was slipping into the covers.

            “Those words weren’t just for the kids,” Charlie said. “I needed to hear them as well. Harold’s a tough case.”

            “I ran into him after you left. He was in the lobby snooping through the records. Seems a little strange,” Naomi said.

            “You have no idea, Naomi. The man is arrogant, condescending, and completely full of himself.”

            “Well, those traits kind of go together.”

            “Yeah, I guess so... It’s just that, you know, I’ve just gotten so used to being around our brothers and sisters. I mean, none of us are completely perfect yet, but it’s just so peaceful now. Everyone’s trying. Disagreements are so rare, I can barely remember the last time I ran into anyone in this world who wasn’t just the model of humility and kindness and selflessness... And now, having to rub shoulders with these kinds of people again. It’s really tough.”

            Naomi had rolled onto her side and was watching her husband speak. She stroked his chest gently with the tips of her fingers.

            “Love never fails,” she whispered through a grin.

            “Ha. Yeah. I know. I had to recite that scripture in my head at least a dozen times today. I came so close to telling Harold that all those theories he was working on were completely and utterly debunked shortly after his death. All that pride, and nothing to show for it.”

            Charlie turned to look at his wife. Suddenly a look of guilt washed over his face and he said, “I’m so sorry babe, this whole time I’ve been talking about my day that I forgot to ask about you and Adrina. You seemed pretty tired when you came home today, and so late! What happened?”

            “She jumped,” Naomi said. The grin was gone.

            “She jumped?”

            “Out the window. She got scared I guess, and before I could even say a word to her she had scrambled out the window. Like she was escaping from prison. She fell out the window and down the embankment. Must’ve twisted her ankle. She had some other scrapes and bruises, too, and she’d hit her head.”

            Charlie stared wide-eyed at his wife and shook his head slowly. They began to laugh. Charlie didn’t feel good about taking anyone’s misfortune lightly, but he couldn’t help himself. The day’s stress finally released itself in hushed giggles and gasps that eventually had the two of them clutching their sides.

            “She jumped! And where did she think she was going to go?”

            “I have no idea!” Naomi said, wiping tears from her face as she struggled to regain composure. They laughed for a few minutes more until the muscles in their chests and throats ached sweetly.

            “I never guessed it was going to be like this when we volunteered,” Naomi said when they’d finally quieted down. “I mean, I figured we’d have to work at it, that there would be questions and we’d need to take our time and be patient... But never in a million years did I imagine it like this.”

            Charlie was looking at his wife and nodding. “Looking at them, it’s easy to forget that their perfection is only skin deep. Mentally they’ve still got a long road ahead of them. We’ve been here in the New World for almost two centuries, Charlie. Can you believe it? It’s just all happened so quickly. The time span of eight Old World generations! There’s a gap there, between them and us, then and now. When I hear Harold say something sarcastic or spiteful or arrogant, it’s like the Old World is reaching back at me from the ancient past and slapping me right across the face.”

            “Yeah, I know what you mean. This girl, this Adrina, she kept assuming I was lying to her, that I was trying to trick her into something, and I kept trying to tell her that I don’t lie, that it’s not in my nature, but... You should’ve seen the look on her face. Like I was her sworn enemy.”

            “Well, maybe tomorrow will be better. It’s only the first day.”

            “A very long, very exhausting first day.”

            “We have to stay positive.”

            “Yeah, you’re right.”

            Charlie kissed his wife gently and they curled up in each other’s arms. The stars above the second-story glass ceiling winked and glistened above them. They were fast asleep before the wall chimes struck ten.